HYDE

The elongated skull of a Dr. Jekyll
Had fallen into the improbable
Hands of a Mr. Edgar Allan Poe
Who, riding clippity-clop on an ox-
Hyde saddle, had rigged by satchel
Henry’s unreliable scalp to the haft
Of the Camel on which this tar-mad crow
Would make his row North by South
Or, out of the blue, the other way ‘round
To quench some strange, unforeseen star-

bound thirst